ee to it that everything vindicates its
right to enter because it is pleasing to Jesus Christ.

III. Thirdly, we have here another expansion of the general command, and
that is--keep well separate from the darkness.

Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather
reprove them.' Now, your time will not allow me to dwell, as I had hoped
to do, upon the considerations to be suggested here. The very briefest
possible mention of them is all that I can afford.

'The unfruitful works of darkness';--well, then, the darkness has its
works, but though they be works they are not worth calling fruit. That
is to say, nothing except the conduct which flows from union with Jesus
Christ so corresponds to the man's nature and relations, or has any such
permanence about it as to entitle it to be called fruit. Other acts may
be 'works' but Paul will not dishonour the great word 'fruit' by
applying it to such rubbish as these, and so he brands them as
'unfruitful works of darkness.'

Keep well clear of them, says the Apostle. He is not talking here about
the relations between Christians and others, but about the relations
between Christian men and the _works_ of darkness. Only, of course, in
order to avoid fellowship with the works you will sometimes have to keep
yourselves well separate from their doers. Much association with such
men is forced upon us by circumstances, and much is the imperative duty
of Christian beneficence and charity. But I venture to express the
strong and growing conviction that there are few exhortations that the
secularised Church of this generation needs more than this commandment
of my text: 'Have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness'
'What communion hath light with darkness?' Ah! we see plenty of it,
unnatural as it is, in the so-called Church of to-day. 'What concord
hath Christ with Belial? What part hath he that believeth with an
infidel? Come ye out from among them, and be ye separate.'

And, brethren, remember, a part of the separation is that your light
shall be a constant condemnation of the darkness. 'But rather reprove
them,' says my text; that is a work that devolves upon all Christians.
It is to be done, no doubt, by the silent condemnation of evil which
ever comes from the quiet doing of good. As an old preacher has it, 'The
presence of a saint hinders the devil of elbow-room for doing his
tricks.' The old legend told us that the fire-darting Apollo shot his